


your love is my drug

by scarlettroses



Series: is there still hope? [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Imported from Tumblr, M/M, uhh jack does heroin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettroses/pseuds/scarlettroses
Summary: "What the fuck is wrong with you!?" yells Davey, now towering over Jack and almost managing to look intimidating. "I thought you were done with this shit! You were clean for so long, and now this!?“-another tumblr request that i’m just now remembering to post on here!
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Series: is there still hope? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126115
Comments: 7
Kudos: 71





	your love is my drug

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: “kath.. one true angst god.... may we please have some modern au javid angst that's not just the same "davey has a panic attack" fic that i swear is all this fandom knows how to write? thank u ma'am” 
> 
> ask and you shall receive..... this is something a lil different but very heavy and angsty. warning for drug abuse and withdrawal symptoms.
> 
> i posted this on tumblr a while ago but here it is for the ao3 crowd!

“So the funny part is…”

Jack trails off for a moment, trying to think of what’s actually so funny. Shooting up in the bathroom, with hands so shaky he could hardly even get the needle in his arm— it’s _sad_ , really. This isn’t actually very funny at all.

“What’s funny, Jack?” asks Davey, his voice wavering like he’s so mad he can’t even control it. “What the hell is _funny_ about this?”

Jack swallows and looks down at the bruises and tiny round scars on his arms— all by his own hand. This isn’t funny.

“Never mind,” he mumbles. The initial rush of the injection is wearing off into a pleasant high, but he can’t even enjoy it with Davey staring at him like that, all broken-hearted.

“No, Jack,” continues Davey, stepping closer to Jack and grabbing him by the front of the shirt. “I want to know. Tell me what you think is _fucking_ funny.”

Jack can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. He doesn’t mean to, but Davey never gets mad, so seeing him like this is new and sort of entertaining. He knows Davey would never hurt him, so it’s almost amusing that he’s getting aggressive. Jack giggles and tries to worm his way out of Davey’s grasp, just to see what would happen.

“You’re strong,” he comments when Davey’s grip on him only tightens as he moves. He fights the grip a little harder— enough to scare Davey somehow, make him panic and shove him as hard as he can, sending Jack tumbling into the empty bathtub. He laughs hard as he lands, quite sure he’s going to have some sick bruises on his elbows and ass from how he’d tried and failed to catch himself, but not really able to feel the pain right now.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” yells Davey, now towering over Jack and almost managing to look intimidating. “I thought you were done with this shit! You were clean for so long, and now _this_!? What did you even shoot!?”

It takes Jack a second to process the question, but he eventually points to the needle, elastic band, cotton ball, lighter and spoon on the counter.

“What’s it look like? Fuckin’… smack. _H_. The good stuff.”

This seems to piss Davey off more than Jack had anticipated. At least he’s being honest— lying would only make things worse.

“God damn it,” groans Davey, now pacing around the bathroom, seemingly unable to even look at Jack. “You have to be kidding me. _Heroin_. Of all fucking things…” He turns back around to Jack with tears welling in his eyes that he’s clearly trying to hold back. He pauses for a moment and scrubs a hand over his face with a sigh. “How long, Jackie? How long have you been back on this shit?”

The fact that Davey is crying is like a punch in the gut. Jack is well aware he shouldn’t have started again— he’d been four years clean and so goddamn proud of himself— but then his mental health had started going to shit again and he couldn’t afford meds for anxiety, depression, _and_ bipolar disorder all at once, but he _did_ know a guy who could link up cheap drugs that could make him feel just as good. And now here he is— high as a kite, laying in his bathtub, and his husband is crying over his stupid mistakes.

“About a month,” he finally replies. He’d been good at hiding it too— years of secret addiction as a teenager and young adult had left him well-practiced. “I… I’m sorry.”

He’s almost glad he’s been caught. If it were just him, on his own, Jack would probably just keep shooting up until it killed him somehow. But with Davey here, and so angry at him, he has to stop. Davey is mad and that’s all that matters— making Davey happy is one of the most important things to Jack.

In some weird, convoluted way, that’s almost why he’d started using again. When he gets crazy and bipolar without his medication, it puts a wedge in their relationship and gets Davey upset. So if Jack could just manage his symptoms himself, they’d be okay and Davey would be happy. That’s how it was supposed to work— but now Jack is just back to being the deadbeat drug addict that Davey doesn’t deserve to be stuck dealing with.

Damn it. Nothing ever seems to work out quite right for Jack Kelly.

-

The next thing Jack can recall is waking up in bed with his body on fire.

Everything is burning. He’s on fire, his skin is melting, and the pain is unbearable. He screams at the top of his lungs.

Davey hardly even looks phased, as he arrives to Jack’s bedside in an instant.

“You’re okay,” he whispers, like he’s done this a million times before. Jack can barely hear him as he writhes in bed, screaming again but muffling it with the pillow that he presses against his face. “You’re still coming down, Jackie. It’ll go away eventually, we just have to wait it out.”

Jack is sobbing before he even realizes it. He reaches desperately for Davey’s hands and squeezes.

“I need a hit,” he groans, his voice hoarse and wet with tears. “ _Please_. Make it stop— it hurts. It _hurts_. You gotta— I’m so _sorry_ , Davey! You gotta help me. Please, just one hit. Please, _please_.”

Davey does nothing more than shush him and carefully climb onto the bed to hold him gently. Jack wants to move— it feels like every cell in his body wants to go in a different direction all at once and he’s stuck in the middle of it, shaking and unable to hold still— but at the same time, he wants nothing more than to sleep and make this horrible feeling go away.

“I love you,” whines Jack, turning so that he can cry into Davey’s chest instead of the pillow. He’s shaking with that god-awful craving that he’s come to know too well and his skin is literally on fire. “You have to help me, _please_. I could— I can snort it, so it’s not as strong. Only one line. Would… would you still love me if I did a line? Only one, Davey. I have to make it _stop_.”

“I’ll love you no matter what baby,” sighs Davey, and he sounds so exhausted that it breaks Jack’s heart. “But I know you can sober up for me all on your own. You don’t need any drugs. This is just a bad craving, and it’s gonna go away all by itself. I talked to your doctor, and he says you’ll be okay if we just let it all pass. You’ve done this before.”

Jack sobs again and the only thing that makes him feel okay is Davey’s hand rubbing up and down his back.

He _has_ done this before. And it was horrible, some of the worst moments of his life, but he did it. He did it with Davey’s help and they were okay. He was okay. He got better and they got married— they were gonna start a family.

Maybe they still can. Maybe if Jack gets good and sober and proves that he’s more than just the worthless junkie that Davey’s parents still just pretend not to hate, they can still do everything they planned.

“I’m okay,” whispers Jack, as the burning in his body slowly starts to ease off and he feels like he might be able to fall asleep again. He grips Davey’s shirt in his sweaty, shaking hands and just holds on tight. “I love you. I love you so much. You’re my everything, Davey, I love you.”

And he means it.


End file.
